


It’s a Magic Garden

by TintedPink



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Fluff, Gardening, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-23
Updated: 2019-05-23
Packaged: 2020-03-10 04:09:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18930985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TintedPink/pseuds/TintedPink
Summary: Stephen works in his garden. Tony helps.





	It’s a Magic Garden

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr post with credits [here](https://iwritefanficsometimes.tumblr.com/post/185014373959/its-a-magic-garden)

A certain Master of the Mystic Arts in deep blue robes, absent one red cloak, was kneeling at a the foot of a patch of newly turned soil. The work was tiring, but it was good for strengthening his hands, and it served a greater purpose.

Looking on in silence, hands tucked into suit pants pockets and sunglasses perched low on his nose, was a genius, billionaire, world savior, philanthropist. He looked around for a familiar red cloak and found it floating in the shade of the nearby building. A rooftop garden the billionaire would have understood, but a garden on the other side of the planet accessed by portal seemed excessive even to him.

“Are you just going to stand there or are you going to help?” The Master didn’t look up. His yellow gloves were nearly elbow high and covered in dirt from fingertips to palms. A small trowel created lines in the closest patch of soil, hands shaking but mostly steadied by the drag of trowel on earth.

Tony Stark took that as an invitation to come closer, which it most certainly was. “Sorry, Doc. Wasn’t sure I was welcome.”

Stephen Strange rolled his eyes and pointed to the seedlings that were nestled into a small holeless pot. “Put one of those every two inches here.” He pointed to the crevice he’d just created with his trowel. He didn’t have to say he couldn’t do it because of his shaking hands. He didn’t have to say please or use excessive kindness in his voice. Tony just stepped forward and picked up the pot that had been indicated.

“I don’t think I’ve played in the dirt since I was a child.” Tony said as he knelt in the dirt beside Stephen and carefully picked up one seed at a time to plant in the rows as directed.

“Press them in with your ring finger, no more than a half inch deep.” Stephen said absently as he moved to another patch of dirt and began turning earth. His hands ached near to the point of him needing a break, but Stephen knew his own limits and would stop himself when it was truly necessary. “And we’re not playing. We’re planting.”

“Bold of you, to include me in your planting.”

“Stupid might be the more accurate word,” Stephen smirked.

Tony snorted when he failed to hide his own amusement and started pressing seeds in like he’d been instructed. The earth beneath his bare fingers was cool but lively, sucking him in and holding him steady. He stopped pressing to just hold his fingers against the soil and feel the pulse of the earth.

Stephen noticed the pause and smiled, turning his head away to hide it from Tony.

“It’s a magic garden,” he explained, breaking Tony out of his reverie.

Tony huffed a laugh. “I don’t know why I expected anything less. What are we planting?”

“Mostly herbs and plants that are hard to find in the wild due to human distruption of their habitats. What plants do survive we try not to disturb. The soil within this boundary has been enchanted to allow what ever is planted here to thrive.” Stephen finished turning over the soil and started trying to make lines through the dirt, but his hands were too unsteady to produce anything like rows. He took a deep breath and accepted his limitation, putting his trowel down and sitting back on his heels, giving his hands and back some time to rest while Tony continued planting seeds.

“You okay there, Strange?” Tony asked when he noticed Stephen stop. The yellow gloves did little to hide the tremors in Stephen’s hands that only seemed to have gotten worse since Tony arrived.

Stephen thought about how to answer that, but eventually nodded. “I just need to rest my hands.”

“Want me to take over the line making?” Tony asked, putting the pot of seeds aside.

“No, I can do it, I just need to rest. Please continue with the seeds.” Stephen looked at Tony with such earnest eyes and a kind smile that Tony couldn’t help but smile back and give a mocking little salute.

“If the Doctor orders.”

“I do.” He let his wide smile drop into just barely upturned lips and closed his eyes, letting his shoulders relax and steadying his breathing. Meditation usually helped some with the frustration of being unable to do what he knew were simple tasks for other people. It also sometimes helped the pain, but Stephen never counted on it.

Tony planted his last seed and then looked over at Stephen, noticing his stillness and closed eyes. He didn’t want to disturb the man, so he waited patiently, knelt beside him on the earth, completely ruining his slacks and the shine on his shoes. Somehow that didn’t seem to matter

When Stephen finally took a deep breath and his eyes fluttered open, Tony was staring at him in gentle wonder, his own restless mind having found peace in catalouging Stephen’s every minute feature.

“Are you entertained?” Stephen asked, a small upturn to his lips.

“Very.” Tony smirked back, drawing a full smile out of Stephen. He looked at the planted seeds and took a second to scrutinize them before nodding at Tony’s work. “Those look good, take the water can and get the soil wet along each of the rows. You don’t want to drown the seeds, just make sure they’re moist.”

Tony smirked at Stephen’s use of the word moise and Stephen rolled his eyes at him. “You’re a child.”

“I’m young at heart.” He took the water can without protest and felt like something out of an old kids cartoon or a ninteen fifties housewife parody as he tipped the can and dozens of streams of water rained down over the newly planted seeds.

Stephen took another second to rest before he began dragging his trowel intentionally through the dirt, creating rows again, these slightly wider apart than the ones previously.

“Why are they wider?” Tony asked, pointing with a free finger towards Stephen’s working patch of dirt.

“The plants here will need more space once they begin to mature. They’ll grow in girth as well as in height.”

Tony snorted at “girth” and again Stephen rolled his eyes, doing his best to suppress an amused smile.

Tony finished watering well before Stephen was done and he took the time to just watch him. The way his hands were slow to make up for their unsteadiness. The dirt stained yellow gloves that seemed far too formal for gardening. The same lock of black hair that always fell into Stephen’s face was limp from sweat and sun. It was endearing.

Tony reached forward with dirt covered fingers and brushed the strand back, accidentally leaving a streak of earth across his forehead. He laughed as Stephen glared at him, taking the relatively useless pocket square from the pocket of his jacket and using it to wipe the dirt away.

Stephen’s glare softened at Tony’s warm smile.

Tony brightened.

“I think I’m ready for a lunch break. You?”

Stephen looked at his not quite complete rows, contemplates the throbbing in his hands and finally said, “I could eat.”

Stephen refused to make a portal to Guadalajara for Tony’s favorite restaurant, so they compromised and went to a restaurant not far from the Sanctum where the “Mexican” food was so Americanized for tourists that it was unrecognizable, but it was delicious and they let it slide.


End file.
